


More Snags

by Amahami



Series: Conflagration [2]
Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Steve Rogers, Don't Try This At Home, Gen, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hydra did a number on Bucky, If it is posted elsewhere it was stolen, Medical Procedures, Phone Calls & Telephones, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Suicide Attempt, Surgery, This work is only posted on AO3, alexander pierce should have died slower, non-medical professionals performing medical procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amahami/pseuds/Amahami
Summary: Steve and Bucky are hiding out in Morocco, and a supply delivery is late. While Steve is getting groceries, Bucky drinks bleach. Steve is the only one around that can save him.With instructions from a Stark-vetted doctor, he might have a chance at succeeding.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Series: Conflagration [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595668
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. More than a Snag

**Author's Note:**

> Board 4 for MCU Almost No Rules Bingo, N4: bleach
> 
> Note: This contains a graphic suicide attempt and a struggle to save him in a unique (though dire) circumstance.
> 
> While this is based in medical fact, I only had help from a professional with some of this, so there's a decent amount of fudged medical stuff. 
> 
> Do not try this at home under any circumstances, not any of it.

Their supply delivery was late because of some storm or another, so they were out of food.

Only Steve could go get groceries, because they were expecting gloves in the next delivery, so right then there was no way to cover up Bucky’s metal hand.

So Steve made a list of what they needed for the next three days and went out to get it. Bucky was still asleep so he left a note just outside his door on the floor. 

He locked the door to the section of the floor they were living in, and to the office, and to the elevator, and then all the doors from the elevator to the door on the side of the building.

Once Bucky could no longer hear Steve’s heartbeat, he stood up from where he was crouched against the wall and headed towards the supply closet. He opened it and picked up the industrial strength bottle of bleach and began chugging.

At the second gulp he started gagging and his mouth began to burn. He’d done it before, though, so he could do it again. He prayed for death as he drank the revolting substance.

He couldn’t take a break or it would be out of his system before he could drink enough to kill him. He had to keep going.

He drank through the gags as they continued to get stronger, and then drank through the heaves, pausing to swallow the bleach-vomit back down. He refused to waste any of it, and he got punished last time from it enough to know exactly how to keep it all down.

He could feel the bleach burning its way from his stomach into his intestines, and his eyes began to water from the pain. He took just a few seconds to breathe, and tears began slipping down his face until he could no longer see out of them.

Bucky suddenly became extremely dizzy, and he leaned against the wall so he wouldn’t fall over and waste the second half of the bleach.

He could taste blood in his throat, and he suddenly wasn’t sure where he was. He was sure of his mission though, and that was to finish this bottle of- he paused to smell the bottle- bleach. 

It seemed to be half gone, so he must have already drank some. His flesh hand was trembling and his legs were twitching. He hoped the handlers would take his blindfold off soon, because he always felt claustrophobic when they put one on. Reminded him of the cryo tubes.

He thought they might have just taken him out of stasis, actually, because his face, hands, and feet were all tingling.

He had no idea how much more he could get down, and was beginning to spill it down his front from the trembling and jerking of his body. 

He thought he might only have a quarter left, but he was vomiting up more than he could swallow down and he would start choking soon. Not that his handlers cared, of course, but vomit in his lungs _hurt,_ and so did pneumonia.

Something about that made his brain hurt. Pneumonia… Why would that hurt? He shook his head and then suddenly his head was hitting a surface. And then there was nothing.

********

Steve came home with plastic bags on his arms. He unlocked the door to their living space, wondering why the entire floor reeked of bleach. 

He saw Bucky on the floor passed out on his side with a clear puddle under his torso and a red-tinged one under his head. There was a bottle on its side with his flesh hand loosely wrapped it.

Steve cursed under his breath and hurriedly disentangled himself from the bags of groceries, doing his best to set them on the floor gently while panicking.

As soon as his arms were free, he rushed over to Bucky and wrinkled his nose at the strong scent of chlorine coming from the puddles and Bucky himself.

In the time it took Steve to get to Bucky, he started to convulse. 

“Shit shit shit,” Steve cursed, stripping his jacket off as quick as he could so he could shove it under Bucky’s head. As soon as he was sure Bucky wouldn’t be able to roll onto his back, Steve yanked his phone out and called Sam.

It rang several times before he picked up with a “Hello?”

“Sam! We have an emergency. He drank bleach and he’s having a seizure and I don’t know what to do and-”

While Sam had sounded asleep a second before, he sounded completely awake now, interrupting him. “Steve. He drank bleach?”

“Yes,” Steve responded, choked up.

“Okay, I’m going to get on a plane headed your way as soon as I can. Gonna see if I can get Stark to take me as far as he can, then hop on some commercial flights. It’ll take a while. I honestly don’t know what to tell you since you can’t take him to a hospital, but I’m sure Stark will know. I need to hang up to make those phone calls and put things in motion, but first I am going to need some more information.

“I need to know what exactly he drank, brand name, bottle capacity, concentration if it’s on there... I need to know how long he was on the ground if you know, how long his seizure’s lasted. Let me get a piece of paper. Give me a sec.”

While Sam rooted around for a pen and paper, Steve watched Bucky. In the time he’d been on the phone with Sam – less than a minute – the seizure stopped.

Steve gave Sam all the information he could, then Sam hung up. It was an eternity later that his phone rang.

“Stark,” he said, “What do I do?”

“I’m working on getting Sam over there, but my preliminary estimates suggest 48 to 56 hours of travel time from DC to you while avoiding leading anyone there. I’m getting everything sorted as we speak.

“I have the number of a doctor for you to call. She’ll help you through everything. Pepper goes to her whenever she is sick, and she’s said this doctor's trustworthy. I’m going to give you a phone number, and you’re going to call it.

“When she answers, you’re going to request passcode alpha-11. Tell her there is a situation beta-chrome-yellow-6. If she replies ‘hands obfuscate technician clips’ then you can proceed. If she replies ‘you changed your phone name’ then you need to text me and talk about something that seems urgent that isn’t real. If she replies ‘you’re fooling yourself,' then just wait a moment for her to secure the line and the space. Once she gives the first response you can proceed. If she replies anything else, then it’s not her and you need to hang up immediately. Do not identify yourself until she’s given you the all clear. Understood?”

Steve forgot how fast Tony could speak when he got going, but he replied, “Yes.” Tony gave him the number and hung up.

There was some grumbling as his call was accepted, but things were sorted quickly enough, the doctor giving her passcode immediately after the request.

“This is Steve Rogers, and Stark told me to call you and say all that. We have a problem.”

“Yes,” the woman replied, “That was implied with the situation code. Who attempted suicide?”

Steve flinched at the word. Did she really need to use it? 

Bucky started to convulse again. 

“Fuck, uh, Bucky. Bucky Barnes. Um. You might know him as the Winter Soldier?” Steve's voice cracked.

“Okay, what’s going on?” she asked, voice calm even though he could hear frantic movement in the background.

“He drank, uh, industrial strength bleach? A lot of it. There’s some blood in a puddle of what is maybe vomit? I don’t know how much was in the bottle, only that the bottle itself is taller than two of my hands heel-to-fingertip. 

He is laying on his side on the floor in a pile of his vomit and there’s some bleach spilled at his torso. And uh, he’s, uh, fuck, convulsing. This is his second seizure. The first one lasted about a minute. Second one is still going. Uh, I put my jacket under his head. He’s laying on his side and I don’t think he can roll onto his back.”

“And you can’t get him to a hospital?” she asked.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Okay. Okay. Uh. I need a minute to figure things out, but right now I need you to get him away from the puddles of bleach and undress him everywhere the bleach touched. 

"You need to pour water over the areas where it might have touched, wash it with soap, and then rinse it a few times, making sure to keep the dirty water from going anyplace else. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, yes, I’m doing that now. I think the seizure ended. Do I need to keep him on his side?” Steve asked as he yanked down Bucky’s yoga pants.

“Yes, yes. Don’t want him inhaling his vomit on a good day, but ‘specially not when it’s bleach.”

“Can do,” Steve said, tugging Bucky away from the puddles. He stripped Bucky’s underpants off and tried to carefully remove Bucky’s shirt but gave up quickly and ripped it down the middle.

Bucky had a couple burns on his side where he was laying in the bleach, a burn on the side of his face, and a couple on his chest.

With Bucky undressed, Steve got up to grab a couple clean cloths and a bowl of water.

“I’m going to have to put the phone down,” he said to the doctor. He started on Bucky’s torso, but got frustrated when bleach water was getting everywhere.

“Put me on speakerphone, please,” she said. “Is something happening?”

“Yeah, uh, yes, he’s naked but I can’t- water is just pooling underneath him, and I can’t- fuck.”

“Steve, listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. Can you pick him up?” Her calm voice was going to be calming his nightmares, he swore.

“Yes, I can pick him up.”

“Okay, pick him up and put him in a bathtub. If you only have a shower, you can put him in a chair, but you’ll have to secure him there.”

Steve cursed again and mentally ran through his options before making his decision. He quickly stripped to his underthings as he told the doctor, “I’m going to get into the shower with him to hold him up. I shouldn’t be long.” He picked Bucky up and rushed him to the bathroom. He moved the showerhead so it would point almost directly down so it wouldn’t have a chance of hitting either of them in the face.

Even with Bucky unconscious he didn't dare do anything that triggered Bucky. 

He turned the shower on overly warm but not hot, he hoped, before stepping in with Bucky held in one arm by the chest.

Steve used the washcloth to carefully dribble clean water down Bucky’s chin without getting it in his mouth.

Bucky started to seize again and in pulling Bucky closer to keep him from falling, Steve slipped. Luckily the shower stall was fairly small, so Steve ended up diagonal, hitting his head lightly before he carefully slid them down the shower floor.

As soon as Steve regained full comprehensive thought, he quickly turned them around so the spray was again at his back instead of their fronts.

Steve slid Bucky down a bit so his head would hit his chest instead of his shoulder, and waited the seizure out.

It lasted few minutes that time, and when it finally abated, there was bleach-vomit all down Bucky’s front.

Steve took the washcloth and hastily rinsed the vomit off Bucky’s body before focusing on rinsing off all the burns. Then he grabbed the soap from the shelf in front of him and rubbed it carefully down Bucky’s front. 

Steve quickly rinsed all the soap off and rinsed him off again and again and one more time to be sure.

Then he reached back and turned the shower off. He took a few moments to gather himself before he opened the shower door and yanked down a towel to dry Bucky off.

Once Bucky was mostly dry Steve laid him on his side on the floor next to the shower, the soft bath mat under his head.

Steve hurriedly stripped off his wet clothes and dried himself off before he stepped out of the shower carefully and picked up his phone.

“Okay, now what?” he asked the doctor.

“Now you need to get the bleach out of his stomach without making him vomit.”

“Now I need to- _what?”_

“I can explain the science later, but right now, I need you to find tubing. Can you get infections?”

“Uh...” Steve grimaced, “Probably? But it’s much harder.”

“Okay, good. Find tubing, any tubing. Make sure it’ll be long enough to reach his stomach. If it’s thin enough to fit twice, get enough to reach his stomach twice. Get the saline bags from the med kit I really hope you have. Leave Bucky on his side near the phone. Go!”

Steve jolted into motion, hurriedly rearranging Bucky to keep him from being able to roll before outright sprinting to the med kit. He grabbed the two saline bags from the giant med kit and raced back to Bucky.

He put the bags down and looked around frantically for tubing, first in the bathroom, then in the rest of their area. 

It seemed like ages before he found any tubing at all, let alone that would work. After minutes and minutes of searching, he noticed a bit of tubing under the fridge.

He yanked the fridge away from the wall and pulled the tubing out. He ran back to Bucky.

“I got it. Too thick for twice,” he said frantically, panting.

“Okay, Steve. This is going to be the worst part. Listen carefully: Lay him on his back on a table or counter or something with support on his neck. Stand at his head, and open his jaw as far as it’ll naturally go. Put a couple fingers in his mouth and press his tongue into his jaw, further down his throat than you’d like.

“Once you can see the- uh, a flappy bit, get the tubing and slide it into the area away from the part that’s moving in time to his breathing. Once liquid starts coming out, go just a bit further and direct the other end of the tube down.

“After a few seconds of quick expulsion, or several seconds of slow expulsion, get a bag of saline flowing into the tube once it’s directed upwards. Wait a few moments before lowering the tube again to drain his stomach. Repeat until you run out of saline. Got it?”

Steve hummed an affirmative as he carefully followed the woman’s directions. Except there was no liquid when he put the tube in, only spasming.

“There’s no liquid!” Steve shouted at her.

“Okay Steve, pull the tube out until you see the end of it, and slide it into the other side,” she said, all too calmly.

Steve nodded and followed her instructions, and pinkish liquid began pouring out.

Steve counted to three, turned the tubing upright, and stared at the saline bag for a moment, thoughts racing. He finally grabbed a knife from the counter behind him and stabbed the bag, directing the flow into the tube.

Bucky’s stomach began to bulge as the saline gurgled down the tube. He repeated the process.

While the second and final bag of saline was emptying, Steve said, “This is the last saline bag. We had two. What do I do now?”

“Uh, okay, so… Direct the tube downwards again, but only let out about three-quarters of the volume of the saline bag. You’ll need to smell the liquid coming out. If it still smells strongly of bleach, you’ll have to make a choice.”

“What kind of choice?” Steve shouted.

There was a slight pause before the doctor replied, “You’ll either have to risk his stomach walls sticking together and healing that way, or risk his body absorbing more bleach than it can handle. Unless you happen to have clean water.”

“Yeah, we do. Have clean water.”

“Okay, then you’ll need to figure out a way to get water into him the same way you’re doing now, at the same rate. Can you do that?”

Steve snorted. “I’ll try, ma’am,” he said, directing the tube downward again. “What do I do once his stomach’s contents stop smelling strongly of bleach?”

The woman took a deep breath and heaved a great sigh. “You’ll need to carefully remove the tube, but not slowly, to avoid him vomiting again. 

"Then you’ll probably want to wash both of you again, before laying him down on his side and wrapping him in blankets to keep him nice and warm. 

"Have pain killers on-hand, but don’t administer any until, uh...” She paused, and Steve could faintly hear keys clicking in the background, “Three hours have passed from the time you stop pumping his stomach.”

“Got it. What should I expect?” Steve asked before rushing to the sink and filling a bowl with water.

“This is completely unprecedented," She began, "The body usually vomits the bleach up within the first few sips.” There was a pause. “I really don’t know. But if you’ve succeeded so far, I think everything might actually work out.”

The phone line clicked as the call ended.

Steve continued for what seemed like hours and hours, before the fluid finally didn’t reek of bleach. At least there were drains in the floors. They were creepy, but useful, too.

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve murmured just before pulling the tube out.

Bucky’s muscles seized for a few moments then went lax again.

Steve picked him up and took him back to the shower to carefully wash them off again, then laid Bucky sideways on the inflatable mattress in Steve's room.

He covered Bucky in one of the emergency blankets and both of the blankets from their packs. Steve laid along his back, hoping to help keep Bucky warm, since he was so cold and clammy.

Steve fell into a fitful sleep.


	2. Really? The title should be changed, this is way more than snags, jeez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Bucky's worse than previously thought. We can still fix it, right?
> 
> (I couldn't wait any longer to post this xD so here it is!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MCU Almost No Rules Bingo  
> Board 4  
> B2: hands
> 
>  **Note:** This is considerably more intense than chapter one. Take a moment to prepare yourself for some full-on surgery.

Steve flinched when his phone started ringing, waking him up. He immediately answered it.

“Hi Steve, hi, sorry, just occurred to me that Bucky might have ingested enough to burn holes in his stomach and intestines, and if that’s the case then he needs immediate treatment.

“Whatever painkiller dosage you guys need, give it to him and get him back on wherever you had him for the stomach pumping. On whatever side you had him laying on.”

Steve ground his teeth and took a moment to curse the world. “Alright," he finally replied, “On it.”

He got up, unwrapped Bucky from his warm cocoon, and carried him to the damp table. He grabbed the big med kit and placed it on the counter so he could root through it.

Once he found their emergency pain killers, he uncapped the syringe, grimaced at the needle’s length before jabbing it into Bucky’s thigh, dispersing the liquid slowly.

“The pain killers will last an hour if we’re lucky," Steve recited. "What next?”

There was a pause where Steve could practically hear the doctor grimacing, herself.

“You need to cut him open. Find the upper-most point of his pelvis, closest to the table, on his front side.” She waited a few moments to continue, “Sterilise five centimetres north of that area. Use your cheap disinfectant to clean one side of the tubing you used earlier.”

Steve worked quickly and efficiently, body working on a combination of autopilot and adrenaline-fuelled hyperfocus.

“Done preparing the site,” he said. “Now what?”

“Now you take a scalpel, hopefully, and cut into that area you sterilised. I don’t know how far, we usually do this with a needle, uh...” The doctor started babbling in a language that was probably only technically English.

“Excuse me, Doctor?” Steve asked, “I could use the needle we just used for the pain killers?”

The doctor’s end was dead silent for a solid ten seconds, before she laughed. “Oh thank God, Steven Grant Rogers, you’re fucking brilliant. Okay. So. Take that needle, not a scalpel, and insert it into that area you sterilised. Once you are firmly into the skin, pull back on the plunger to create a vacuum. Maybe 5 mils back?

“Continue inwards until the resistance against the plunger is gone. Pull five millilitres of fluid out. Then you’ll have to inject the fluid into a dish or something to smell it.”

Steve laughed, high pitched and hysterical. “Is that all?”

“Hopefully,” the doctor replied.

Steve groaned anxiously but did as instructed, awkwardly manhandling Bucky while murmuring a litany of “sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” as he worked.

Once he pulled the needle back out, he dumped water out of a cup and pressed the plunger over it. He nervously sniffed at it.

Steve flinched, nose wrinkling. “Smells of bleach, doc.”

“Fuck,” she said, “Okay. Steve, you’re going to have to do some intense fucking surgery, and I’m done censoring myself because I can’t think this through while carefully filtering myself.”

“Sure, of course, no problem,” Steve replied, absent-mindedly stroking Bucky’s hair.

“You’ll need to cut his abdomen open. It needs to be rinsed out, immediately. Uh, fuck, I don’t- okay, uh. I’ve never actually done this before, only read about it in med school, but we don’t have time to research. Fuck, okay, fuck. Uh...”

She took several deep breaths before continuing, “Okay. That location where you inserted the needle, start there, make an incision, keep going down until you feel a light pop. You’ll have to, uh, stick your finger in, I think, to make sure you’re through to the abdominal cavity.

“Continue cutting into his abdomen, guided by your finger to avoid his organs, until you have enough of a flap to lift it up and over.

“Actually, before you do that, get the cleanest water you can, you’ll need to dilute it before emptying it, I think. Fuck.”

“Sure,” Steve said, carefully laying Bucky down and rushing to the bags he dropped what seemed like ages ago, that had a big thing of bottled water. He loosened the cap on every one of them and set them on the counter next to the med kit.

“Okay. Do I get started now?”

“Yes. Oh, wait, put him on his back now.”

Steve nodded and got to work, shoving away his nausea.

He quickly cut enough to lay it over itself. “How much water do I use? I have a big thing of water bottles.”

“Fuck if I know,” the doctor said, “Start with a gallon, uh, 17 ounces per water bottle, 128 ounces per gallon, uh, math math math math, nine? Sure, close enough. Start with nine water bottles. While you’re doing that, I’ll give you the next instructions.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve said, pouring the first water bottle into the mess that was Bucky’s abdomen. Steve didn’t think any of this was usually like this. But hell if he knew.

  
“Without a proper suction," the doctor began, "you’ll have to use gravity, and that worked before, but because of the situation, you’ll have to, uh, make an exit wound. You’ll need to place a proper drain. 

"Use your hand to keep any organs away from where you’re cutting. You’ll want to make an X shape, big enough for the hose, but only just.

“Um. Fuck. Then you’ll just have to direct the hose downwards so the water will escape. Oh, you’ll make the cut on his side, but where it nearly touches the table. The corner, kind of.”

“Sure, yeah, okay, I can do that,” Steve said absently, continuing to pour water into Bucky’s stomach.

Steve shook his head and refocused. “Alright, that’s nine bottles, now I just empty it like you said?”

“Yes.”

Steve did as instructed, and the water drained quickly and easily, tinged red (not pink, red).

“Done. Now what?” Steve’s hands were beginning to tremble. He couldn’t take much more of this. But he didn’t have a choice. Come on serum, help me out here.

“You need to carefully feel around his organs to check for rips, tears, holes, etcetera. You know how to suture?”

Steve began feeling around for any holes in Bucky’s organs.

“I just… Put my hands… On his heart?!”

“Honestly, no, he’d have died ages ago if there was. Same with his lungs. But everything else you need to feel. Fondle, if you will.”

Steve snorted and poked and prodded around Bucky’s stomach.

“There are holes,” he finally said, “A couple in his stomach, one in his liver, one in his kidney – he only has one – and one, two, three, four, five, six? Six in his intestines. They’re all high up.”

“Right,” the doctor said, “Okay. This part’s the easy part. It’s the part afterwards that’s going to be awful.”

Steve snorted.

She continued, “Take the suture kit I assume you have, and carefully sew up the holes. Just enough to let the edges of the wound touch.”

“I can do that. I’m familiar with this part, at least,” Steve said in relief. He grabbed one of the sterile suture packs and got to work with the pliers that came with it.

It took him forever to close all the holes, but finally, he was done. He told the doctor as much.

“Okay,” the doctor said, sounding significantly more confident than she had earlier, “Add more water to his abdominal cavity and make sure every organ gets rinsed off. You’ll need to plug the tube up while you do this. Once you’re sure they’re as clean as they can safely get, open the drain back up. Once that’s emptied, add a couple stitches to that area.”

“Can do, ma’am,” Steve said as he grabbed more water bottles and began filling Bucky up with them. 

He gently rubbed the organs he felt most comfortable touching, cleaning them the best he could before letting the water out.

He removed the hose and added two stitches to where the drain had been. “Okay, now what?” he asked, knowing the worst part was coming up.

The doctor sighed. “Rinse out the tube, use some of that lubricant you have in your first aid kit. Fuck, use vaseline, I don’t think it matters, just use something on it, gently insert it into his anal cavity.

“Keep going until you have a hand and a half’s length left outside his body. Use water bottles to fill his colon. Go until, uh, wherever you think the bleach starts getting diluted. Do maybe one bottle more than that. Then you’ll need to massage his colon, going from the bottom to the top, once you block the drain off.

“He’ll need to keep those in long enough for them to combine properly, maybe 90 seconds, if massaging his colon takes less time than that.

“You’ll want to unplug the tube at that time, and keep ahold of it to prevent any unnecessary damage by the bleach. Once his colon’s been evacuated, or at least mostly so, add another couple water bottles and massage that north again. You’ll be able to gently – gently – remove the tube then.

“Got all that?” she finished.

Steve blinked slowly at his phone.

“Steve?” the doctor said, “Steve, are you there?”

Steve jumped, “Yes ma’am, yes, I’m here, yes I got all that. Just. FUBAR and all that.”

“Get to work,” the doctor ordered, spurring Steve into immediate action.

As Steve gently pulled apart Bucky’s buttcheeks, be started his apologetic mantra back up.

He could see the tubing as it made its way through Bucky’s colon, and he stopped where he was told to, and added the water.

He could see it lightly inflate Bucky's intestines and was absolutely fascinated. But he kept his mind focused, filing that away for future inspection.

Once he saw that the water made its way past the holes he’d stitched up, he finished the bottle and stopped. He blocked the tubing off and hurried to the sink to wash his hands before hurrying back and massaging Bucky’s colon.

And wasn’t that a weird fucking statement.

“Releasing the stopper on the drain now,” Steve announced, and liquid came rushing out, faster than Steve anticipated. He got splashed, and cringed. Gross.

Once the liquid had stopped, more or less, he added another bottle and a half – he didn’t think any more would be physically tolerable – before removing the tubing altogether. He threw it on the floor.

“Okay, done. Now what, doc?”

“Good job, Steve. Now, I want you to add two-thirds of a water bottle to Bucky’s abdominal cavity. Then you need to carefully sew Bucky’s abdomen up.”

“And then I’m done?” Steve asked excitedly, immediately getting to work.

“Not quite. In – oh, I did the math for this, shit, where is it, where is it… Oh!” Steve heard a piece of paper being slammed onto a hard surface before the doctor continued, “In about an hour and a half, you’ll need to use the cleaned needle to puncture him again, and pull 3 mils out of him to smell, to make sure he’s not leaking bleach anymore.

“As long as bleach isn't seeping into hid abdominal cavity at that point, I think he’ll be out of immediate danger.”

“Fuck,” Steve said, ripping open a new suture kit, “Okay, so we’re almost done.”

“Yes. I want you to call me if you need any more medical help though, okay?”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you for all your help.” Steve’s voice was absolutely pregnant with all the gratitude in it.

“You are welcome, Steve. I wish I could say it was a pleasure.”

Steve laughed. “Me too, Doc. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” the doctor replied before ending the call.

It was quiet while Steve sewed Bucky back up. When he was finally done, he washed his hands and then carefully wiped Bucky down with a damp cloth before gently lifting him from the table.

Steve took Bucky to his own room, and laid him down on his back. “I’m so sorry for all this, Buck.”

Steve shook his head before laying down on the floor a few feet from Bucky on his air mattress and grabbed a dirty sweater to roll up and use as a pillow.

Steve was out like a light, and he didn’t wake until the sun had nearly reached its crest, a full twenty-four hours after the ordeal began.

He groaned and rolled over, startling when he saw Bucky sitting up on the bed, back against the wall, staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and I'd love to hear your thoughts, comments, questions, concerns, constructive criticism, whatever you'd like to share.
> 
> Please note that while I did read and edit through this a couple times, this last time I was on the good painkillers after getting my wisdom teeth out, so if you see anything weird, let me know?
> 
> I will probably write more, but I don't know if I'll add it to this fic or as a new fic in this series.
> 
> Regardless, stay safe and have a good day/night!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! This took me over a year to finish, due to the amount of research I had to do, and my betas all couldn't help me out with this for their safety, so i'm quite desperate for feedback xD
> 
> Chapter two is completely written and will come next week.
> 
> There may be a third chapter, or there may be another installation for this series sooner than later. I don't know yet.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
